


Constellation

by Kuroeia (Empatheia)



Series: d-gray contest @ LJ [2]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, Introspection, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-12
Updated: 2009-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:00:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29300781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Empatheia/pseuds/Kuroeia
Summary: At night the soul is uncloaked.
Series: d-gray contest @ LJ [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2152047
Kudos: 1





	Constellation

**Author's Note:**

> One of three discarded potential entries for dgray-contest on LJ, week #1: "sin". The others are "treading water" and "Magma", while the one I submitted is "Faithless".

In the dark, with no one to prop his belligerence up against, he knows he is not fit to be a Bookman.

It is a double-layered secret.

Many jokes are made of his incompetence, his inability to remain objective, detached. His predecessor scowls and rants. But beneath all that there is respect. Though his friends laugh and tell him he is all wrong for the job, they silently believe him to be everything he told them he should be. That he is a Bookman. That he will act as a Bookman in the end.

But below that, far below, there is more: the truth they have all discounted, wanting to believe the best of him. 

They are wrong.

God has called him to this post: recorder, witness, impartial judge. He is called to set aside all bias and tell the tales he lives through as they happen.

In word and signature he has accepted this charge.

But deep in his heart, below all the levels he allows others to glimpse, he is a remorseless traitor. He loves them. All of them. And he will fight for them with passion far beyond the pragmatic limits his calling demands. All the fire of his soul will be brought to bear against their enemies, not for the sake of his survival, but for the sake of theirs.

They were right the first time.

He is no Bookman. He is Lavi, now, no more and no less than that.

He spreads his fingers against the sky. A handful of stars vanish into his palm, out of the eight thousand two hundred and thirty-seven which are currently visible.

There is a metaphor to be found there, but despite all the things he can be when he chooses, he is no poet.

He's just Lavi, and they're just stars.

**X**

**Author's Note:**

> Work is intentionally this length, complete, and will not be updated.


End file.
